Monthly Bits: Senshi, Shitennou
by d.honey
Summary: Drabbles written for sm.monthly's January 2009 challenge. Typical & nontypical pairings
1. Ugly

the reality he faced when she was near

* * *

**Title: Ugly  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 16, Chill, **sm_monthly** , January 2009  
Genre: Angst-y  
Rating: PG13

* * *

Nephrite sat against the tree, enjoying the feel of Jupiter reaching up and toying with his hair. She curled her fingers in his hair and tugged, pulling him down until his face hovered above hers. Smiling coyly, she pursued her lips and met his in a long kiss.

Breathlessly satisfied, she settled her head once more in his lap, as he leaned his against the bark, certain she could feel his discomfort, or at the very least a poke thereabouts down there.

It never ceased to amaze him how right it felt to be with her and how similar they were. Tall, firm, strong, with a touch of romance, and a brunette head.

They fit together so well, it was precision.

All of them did, as a matter of fact. The royalty. The leaders. The fighters. The intellectuals. And them. The physicals, perhaps? Nephrite did not know what "they" were exactly, but he knew they were together, equal, _right_.

Just like the others. Perfectly snug, like a puzzle.

The perfection worried him. He knew there was no happy ending or "forever and ever." Nothing was perfect, seamless, flawless. Everything had scars and blemishes and faults. Nephrite could not see it, but he knew it was there.

He felt it every time Mercury brushed past him.

A chill, a thrill, a shiver of something.

Goosebumps dotted his skin, tension rankled his body, and a groan sometimes suppressed itself in his mouth.

It had nothing to do with the ice of Mercury.

It had everything to do with the reality he faced when she was near: the flaw in the perfection, the defect in the puzzle, the ugliness he knew was about to surface and spread.

In him and around him, all the way to the "happily ever after" none of them would get to see.

* * *

end


	2. The Difference

He figured it out too late

* * *

**Title: The Difference  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 19, Impossible Love by *SelinaFrench, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: Angst/Drama  
Rating: PG13  
Notes: Kind of an English teacher's nightmare, but it's intentional. I liked playing outside the parameters of accepted rules; it was fun.

* * *

she smelled like the ocean: salty and overwhelming, his vision faded to darkness as he sunk lower into her depths.

She was a day at the beach. He not only smelled the salt, he felt the coarse sand between toes and underneath calloused feet, blinked blindly into the sun, heard the waves rising and falling, destroying the smaller ones that dared go before it, tasted… the unbidden on Her skin, in Her mouth… everywhere.

she dripped of skepticism and shrewdness: hesitant to spend time with him, aware of every touch, cutting her eyes at him when he complimented her, seeking the truth as if he wore it like a cape.

She was all sensuality and play. She draped himself around him, long hair almost grasping at his shoulders, winding about his neck. With Her mouth hovering over his collarbone, he thought She would nuzzle him. Instead, She licked him firmly, ending with a flick at his ear lobe. "Mmmm," She hummed, laying Her head contentedly on his shoulder.

she spoke facts and logistics, endearing him to her curiosity and honesty.

"Tell me why you love me."

She was rhetoric and analogies, confusing him with Her circular thinking, Her entrapping questions.

"A princess and a senshi, or a Goddess and a Queen?"

she asked, "Why?" with tears in her eyes.

She said, "Because I could," with a blanket wrapped around Her naked body, and Zoisite guiltily sated on the bed.

her short blue style was calm and soothing, sad and almost forgiving.

Her long sea-green tresses were jealous and serpentine; like a sea with an undercurrent that swept him away, so far and so fast that he did not know how he had gotten to wherever he was, only that he was there and lost and left behind.

She had brought him away from what was his, seducing him with whispers, teasing him with caresses, tormenting him with images in Her mirror of what they could have. She had wrapped Herself around him until he was all Hers.

And then She had abandoned him. She was the kind to leave him floundering in the sea.

she was the kind who would have saved him, if he had not been him, if he had not done that, maybe even if She had not been Her.

_That_ was the difference between mercury and Neptune.

She had wanted to be his ruin. she had wanted to be his salvation.

Zoisite mourned the day he had given to one and not the other.

* * *

end


	3. Translator, Please!

"Your kid's dancing with a mango."

* * *

**Title: Translator, Please!  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 20, Mango, **sm_monthly** , January 2009  
Genre: Fluffy humor  
Rating: G

* * *

Kiyoshi was baffled.

First, she asked for a mango, nicely: "May I mango please?" though it had sounded more like "peas."

Then, she repeated herself: "I want mango, I wantmango, I wan mango, I wan mang-o," until he thought he would go blue in the face from telling her there were no mangos.

Next, she had asked again, with a sniffle in words, an underlying tremble. "I wan," sniffle, "mango please?" He had taken her to the kitchen and had shown her that none were visible.

She pointed to the pantry, which he opened with exasperation and exaggeration, "See? No mangos."

She touched the bag of rice, whose open top had been rolled down in an effort to seal it. She looked at him expectantly. With a sigh trademarked of those speaking to a two-year-old, he unfurled the bag and stuck his hand inside. "This is where we keep the rice, Chibi-Usa." He ran his fingers through the grains, grasping with his fist so he could show her. "Look." His sifting encountered something larger than rice, and he pulled it out. "Oh."

She looked at him almost impatiently. It was about time he had caught on – she knew what was in her house.

"I guess you do have mangos in the house." His long limbs bumped the cabinet door as he stood, already reaching for a knife and cutting board.

"No, me!" she said loudly, intent on getting his attention.

With impatient patience, he said, "I need to cut it so you can eat it."

"No! Me! Sha'e."

"Sha'e?"

"Sha'e!" she insisted, wrapping small chubby fingers around his slender ones and pulling him towards the television. This time when she looked him, it was almost as if she was the one with forced tolerance.

Shrugging, he handed her the mango and stood watching her, ready to trudge back into the kitchen and cut up her fruit.

Instead, she held the it with both hands in front of her chest. Looking at him, she smiled without showing her teeth, bouncing one knee and effectively moving her plump little bottom side-to-side.

Kiyoshi crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head downwards. He watched her little pink pigtails swing back and forth in tune to the music, while she held the mango.

"You listen to Beyoncé?" Mamoru questioned amusedly when he came through the door with a couple of brown paper bags.

Before he could answer: "You watch MTV Japan?" This time he was more condescending than anything else.

Kiyoshi gestured to Chibi-Usa. "Your kid's dancing with a mango."

Mamoru looked down at the bobbling hair, placating, "Are you dancing, Chibi-Usa?"

"Sha'e!"

Mamoru stared only a moment longer before grinning with the crazily happy understanding that only parents can have.

"I told her I was getting a mango shake for you."

Mamoru fell to the floor and grabbed Chibi-Usa, tickling her as he went down.

Kiyoshi watched the couple, not understanding why he felt dumb. How was he supposed to know what "sha'e" was? He didn't know she knew he was getting a mango milkshake. And shake could've meant a several very different things.

Kiyoshi went over the multitude of reasons why feeling bad was illogical (since he didn't have a two-year-old translator around) when Chibi-Usa finally stood up and said in a very obvious and pointed voice: "Mang-o sha'e!"

She handed him the mango, gave him one more little booty shake, and walked away, as haughtily, Kiyoshi thought, as a two-year-old could. His look eventually met Mamoru's glazed I-have-a-little-princess eyes.

"I am never having a girl."

* * *

end


	4. Testing the Waters

A decision being made

* * *

**Title: Testing the Waters  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 1, Resolution, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: Drama  
Rating: PG13

* * *

"You're following her very closely."

Michiru eased herself from the doorway leading to the balcony where Zared was currently trying to regain his thoughts.

He swallowed audibly, looking away. Michiru always made him so damn nervous. Where Haruka was brashly straight-to-the-point, Michiru was smoother, calmer, subtler, and sneakier.

'Some things don't change.'

"It's almost as if you're afraid she'll sneak into a corner with another man."

Zared grit his teeth. Ami had made a similar comment, about how everywhere she turned, he was there. He had joked that she was sick of him; she had given him a peck, told him to stop hovering, and pointedly walked into the kitchen he was banned from.

"Maybe, you're afraid she'll sneak away with another woman." Michiru's lips curved sensually with the last word, as if she knew something he did not.

Zared turned to glare at her, shoulders thrown back. It was one thing to mock him, but to allude to Ami's dishonesty… "Ami's not like you."

Michiru's head lolled lazily to one side. Zared focused on the chandelier earring that brushed her collarbone. "Apparently, she's not like you either."

His expression was fierce as he finally sought her eyes, a perfect match to the odd sea green hair – a muted spring green, darker and deeper. They crinkled with amusement and challenge.

"That was a lifetime ago." He had wanted to sound so fierce that only a forced, harsh whisper came out.

"Mmmm, indeed. " Michiru looked as if she was savoring a delicious morsel. She sighed, seemingly at ease and content. "So protective of the little water senshi. She has a past too, you know. Who knows what things-"

"Stop," Zared commanded, and surprisingly, she did. His voice quavered slightly with the anger he felt and held, coiling inside him, keeping him rooted and still. "Stay away from Ami."

"But, Zoisite, didn't you know? Ami and I are friends." Michiru sounded lighthearted, but they both knew it was only to see how far he would be pushed.

Now, Zared was so angry that he could not stop looking at Michiru. He wanted her to see how mad he was, almost hoping that she would stop upon seeing how crazy it was making him, but mostly knowing it was exactly that kind of thing she got off on.

Seeing him guilty and angry and swimming in memories he did not want while grasping at lifesaving memories that were out of reach.

It was foreplay to her.

"We could all be friends, together," she suggested, her eyelids drifting down and her voice taking on a gravelly quality.

Zared took two quick short steps toward her, balling his fists and stopping abruptly.

Energy sparks jumped from one elegant, manicured finger to another, as she held back her own instincts. She evaluated him for a moment, warily, and then smiled. As if she had been magically brushed down, she became the elegant and gracious host.

She looked musingly at him, thoughtfully speaking to herself. "So, Mamoru is no longer the only who grew some spine."

As she walked away, Zared thought she sounded almost gleeful when the wind carried over her barely there, "Good."

* * *

end


	5. Testing the Waters II

"Through the curtain of green curls…"

* * *

**Title: Testing the Waters II**  
Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 7, Wink, **sm_monthly** , January 2009  
Genre: Drama  
Rating: PG13

* * *

Zared loved the dress that Ami had worn. Holding up a loose neckline, the thin straps also hung precariously to the material that began halfway down her back. Snuggly fit everywhere else, Zared could not help but think that Minako had not yet explained to Ami how sexy a bare back was.

But at this particularly moment, he did not love the dress.

Michiru was tracing the strap over Ami's shoulder and down her back. "We could ask Setsuna," Michiru was saying, "but I just don't think the material will hold through several washings."

Zared could see Ami's profile frowning. The dress was relatively new.

"Oh! I don't know how you keep your skin so soft when you swim so much." Now, Michiru was stroking Ami's back. Slowly with her fingertips. Where Zared could see.

"Oh." Ami blushed. She rattled something off about a great body butter that kept her skin perfectly moisturized.

"Is that what I smell?" Michiru asked.

Ami held her wrist up, and Michiru grasped her hand. Winking slowly at Zared, she bent her head forward. Her long hair fell across her face and into Ami's hand. Reflexively, Ami's fingers moved, almost as if to grasp it.

Through the curtain of green curls, Zared could see the older woman almost touch her nose to Ami's wrist, and then flick her tongue as if to lick it, knowing Zared was watching her.

Ami continued speaking about the price and brand and where to buy it when Michiru interrupted her smoothly. Still softly rubbing Ami's wrist, she said, "We should go swimming together."

Ami was pure delight. "That would be wonderful!"

Zared refused to look away when Michiru brought her gaze to his. "Zared could come too. Just the three of us."

"What about Haruka?" Ami asked.

Michiru smiled conspiratorially. "Oh, she'd rather go ride her bike. Besides," her voice lowered playfully secret, while her eyes on Zared remained intently serious, "what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

* * *

end


	6. The Innocent

She didn't even mean to, but she did

* * *

**Title: The Innocent  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 24, Surrender, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: Fluff  
Rating: PG

* * *

Noboru hovered near the doorway, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Mamoru had finally torn himself away to take a much-needed restroom break; Makoto had taken Usagi's tray of food and was intent on finding out exactly what it was, besides disgraceful.

So, Noboru hovered in and out of the room, wary of further entry.

Usagi rolled her head towards him groggily. "Come in, Noboru. She can't bite. Yet."

Feeling ridiculous and caught, Norobu slouched and shuffled his large frame closer to the bed.

Usagi laughed tiredly. Nephrite. King of the West. Shitennou and Sailor Senshi ally. Six foot whatever, and he refused to take the two steps that would stand him next to her.

Well, not her, but _her_.

Noboru looked at the floor with his hands shoved into his pockets. He craned his neck to get a better look.

Usagi tilted her arms slightly.

Noboru looked at Usagi, with a bit of a smile. "She's so small."

Usagi was too tired to laugh at Noboru lowering his voice. She didn't even know he _could_ whisper; everything about him was normally so large and up-front.

"Come hold her."

Noboru took a step back, shaking his head.

"Noboru! Come hold her!"

"I might drop her."

"Well … don't."

"I-" Noboru hesitated. "I might crush her," he mumbled, feeling and hearing how stupid it sounded.

Usagi just smiled and scooted her legs to the side.

She waited patiently while Noboru inched himself forward and gingerly sat on the bed. Usagi watched as Noboru shifted his arms awkwardly in front of him, cupping his empty hands, and completely unprepared.

Usagi let him fumble around before finally leaning Chibi-Usa into his arms, quietly saying, "Just support her head."

Noboru could not remember a time in the Silver Millenium, with Beryl, or in the present that he had ever been so at attention. Sitting with a rigidly straight back, he panicked slightly when Usagi let Chibi-Usa's weight settle into his arms. As Usagi pulled back, he glanced between her and Chibi-Usa's head worriedly.

She simply lay back and smiled, one hand lifted so her fingertips could caress Chibi-Usa's toes.

For a few moments, Noboru simply stared at the bald little head that his hand completely encompassed. His body began to relax as he realized that thus far, Chibi-Usa had been neither dropped nor crushed.

When he took a breath, his large chest expanded into her. She fidgeted slightly, and Noboru couldn't help but wonder at how small she was to him. Smaller still than the cradle of his arms, Noboru was currently her entire world. His head dipped lower, his lips gently brushing her forehead. Softly resting his cheek against her crown, he took another breath, amazed at how quickly and subtly she had just become his world.

A kick relieved him. Chibi-Usa's mouth opened. Still slightly mesmerized, Noboru did not realize that the whimper always preceded the shrill cry that demanded feeding.

Noboru started and looked at Usagi frantically. She held her arms open, so he could hurriedly place Chibi-Usa back into the arms of whom she belonged.

But he could still smell slightly on his shirt.

That night, Noboru would lay his head on Makoto's soft breasts, listening to her deep ragged breathing even out; he would close his eyes and trail his fingers sleepily over her stomach.

"Makoto?"

"Hmmm?" She was already half asleep.

Noboru wouldn't be sure if she would hear, but he would whisper anyway, drifting off into sleep himself.

"I want a little girl."

* * *

end


	7. Hopeless

Only she knows the truth

* * *

**Title: Hopeless  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 9, Fail, **sm_monthly** , January 2009  
Genre: Fluff  
Rating: G

* * *

"Oh, Chibi-Usa." Jiro smiled and sighed, lowering himself to one knee as he swept the little girl into his arms. "Daddy fixed your hair today, didn't he?"

Smiling widely, Chibi-Usa nodded. On the right side, it looked as if Mamoru had tried to give her a pigtail, but the hair tie had slid down to the ends of her hair and was only holding it loosely. The left side had a clip on the upper side, holding her hair away from her face. Additionally, she was wearing a headband.

Conversationally, Jiro said, "Daddy's useless when it comes to hair, isn't he?"

Chibi-Usa replied, "Yoos-lez."

Gathering her into a hug, he laughed into her ear, "But don't tell him!"

Chibi-Usa giggled and tried to get out of his arms. Drawing her back between his knees, Jiro slowly worked his way through the mess Mamoru had made. Soothingly, he undid her pink tangles and smoothed the strands down her head. Patiently, she waited, resting her tiny hands on his knees and singing a discombobulated version of the ABC's, regularly missing "J, K, L" and skipping "U" and "V" to go straight from "T" to "W."

Finally, he turned her around. He had placed one ponytail nearly on top of her head to the right side, to keep her hair out of her face. In the back, two matching ponytails evenly held the rest of her hair.

Smooth and sleek, Chibi-Usa grinned like she knew how much better she looked with Jiro's handiwork.

After playing in the sandbox, running around at the park, rolling in the grass, sitting on the swings, running up and sliding down slides, painting, playing with her dolls, shrieking in tickled delight, crawling under tables, climbing onto chairs, dancing with Jiro, and stumbling home…

Basically, three hours and a nap later, Chibi-Usa had pulled out the top ponytail so only a small, hump of hair waved around. Strands of hair straggled out of the other two ponytails that once so neatly aligned were now in completely different spots. Hair fell into her eyes in disarray, and she was in the middle of pushing them away when Usagi and Rei entered.

As Chibi-Usa ran to Usagi, Usagi crooned, "I guess daddy lied when he said he fixed your hair today, didn't he? He is perfectly content to let you run around like some crazed two-year-old caveman."

Rei rolled her eyes. "You could've fixed her hair before you went out."

Jiro opened his mouth to say something, looking to Chibi-Usa for support. But Chibi-Usa only spared him one more smile before snuggling into Usagi's neck.

Jiro bit back his response.

Much like Chibi-Usa's hair, it was hopeless.

Besides, nobody needed to know that he was better with a brush than Zared.

* * *

end


	8. Looking for a Sign, Hoping for a Blank

He wanted different things for them

* * *

**Title: Looking for a Sign, Hoping for a Blank  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 13, Betrayal, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: Angst-y  
Rating: PG13

* * *

Noboru sometimes tried to catch her eye. He found himself watching her furtively, while she talked and cuddled and laughed and studied.

He searched discreetly for a semblance of a memory. Embarrassment. Guilt. Evasiveness. Anything that indicated she remembered what they did.

But whenever their eyes met, she smiled at him softly. She thought he was sneaking a glance at Makoto and had wandered over to her by chance. Whenever they were alone, she sat in content silence or willingly chatted with him about Makoto or Zared or books-

Books. It had been one of the things they'd shared. Zoisite was an intellectual, but he favored thinking more than learning. Jupiter was always a more physical being, adverse to being sedentary unless she was meditating.

They'd found book-mates in each other. Conversations about plots and styles and histories and genres. Recommendations and suggestions. Hours of reading under the same tree, on the same couch, once even after they'd-

Noboru shook his head. It was no use going there. But the point was that it had gotten to the point where they not only carried a book around for themselves, but for one another.

Noburo hated to be alone with Ami because of it. He loved talked about books with her. About the ones that had been made into movies. About the merits of children's literature (Harry Potter was a hot topic none of the others even mentioned anymore). From "Confessions of a Shopaholic" to the Discworld series, Noboru found himself unable to dislike Ami.

And he wanted to. So badly. Because she didn't scare him like Minako did – when she looked at him with skeptical eyes, like she knew what they had done. And she didn't worry him like Rei – whom he felt could sometimes see the sins on his soul. And because Makoto – well, he loved Makoto; right?

But between the secret glances and the memories in his dreams and trying to hate her; aside from the fear and the worry and the love; above all that, he found himself willing her to remember.

Then, he could talk to someone about what had happened. Then, it wouldn't be this deep dark secret that only he knew, that only he could keep, that only he could be blamed for. Then, he wouldn't be so alone.

He could discuss it. Work out his frustrations and guilt. Figure out what to do next. Figure out whom to tell. If he should tell.

He could blame her. For seducing him. For leading him astray. For hurting so many people.

It could be her fault too. Maybe it was all her fault.

Noboru smiled at Ami, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He wanted her to remember, for him.

But for her, he hoped she would not.

He would certainly never tell.

Because he could not bear to betray her one more time.

And that actually worried him more than anything else.

* * *

end


	9. Singleminded

"corrupted and twisted and seated in something evil"

* * *

**Title: Single-Minded  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou, Day 10, Plan, **sm_monthly** , January 2009  
Genre: Drama/Angst  
Rating: PG13

* * *

"_No! I'm not! I just need some time. I'll probably go riding or something," Endymion mumbled._

Endymion had lied. To his face!

_"I missed you, princess."_

He had only known her for all of two months.

_Endymion kissed her deeply, holding her tightly to him. Serenity had moaned._

Riding indeed.

Kunzite paced back and forth. Endymion was slipping through his fingers. Sneaking away, lying, falling in love… with HER? Of all people?

Kunzite knew what he had to do. The only thing he could do.

Beryl.

She had the power to bring down the Moon Kingdom. Power to get rid of the Moon Princess. Power to take back Endymion. To bring him back to Earth. To Kunzite.

He knew it was dark power: corrupted and twisted and seated in something evil.

But he had to take the chance. He had to get back Endymion. He had to _save_ Endymion.

He would watch Beryl. He would not truly be hers. There was after all, only one person he truly belonged to.

But he would let her think that he was hers. He would follow her orders while working on his own accord. His power would be aided by hers; it would not _be_ hers.

He was a king in his own right. She would underestimate him, would not expect him to be on guard against her. She thought he was blind-sighted by his concern for Endymion, that he would forget what she really was.

But he wouldn't. Kunzite would not trust Beryl, would not give into her, would only use her as she would him-

"It won't work."

Kunzite drew his sword, whirling and striking at the same time. It was blocked easily, almost lazily, by a silver staff topped with a heart. Knocking away his sword, the person holding the staff twirled it absentmindedly. She was silent, as if giving him time to make an appraisal.

She was taller than him, strangely enough, as he was taller than most. Her green hair fell neatly to the bottom of her short skirt. Short bangs framed red eyes. Boots and long legs completed the ensemble.

Kunzite saw a dagger in his peripheral vision.

She looked at him almost sadly. "It won't work. Don't."

He inched his way left, wondering that she was letting him.

"I understand. I know how you feel; I l-"

"KUNZITE!" Pounding on the door. "Kunzite, he's gone!"

Kunzite jumped. The woman twirled her staff a couple more times. He heard and slightly glimpsed the jangle of keys around her waist, and then she disappeared.

Kunzite threw open the door.

Jadiete panted. "We have to go to-"

"Beryl," Kunzite interrupted. "We're going to Beryl."

* * *

end


	10. The Important Parts

( How lost could one man be? )

* * *

**Title: The Important Parts**  
Theme 1: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 5, "I'm lost…" by julie-rc (image), sm_monthly , January 2009  
Theme 2: Who? (#33) – taken from 101_kisses  
Genre: Angst-y  
Rating: PG

* * *

It couldn't be.

Even Minako recognized the terrible cliché when she heard it in her head, but really. It couldn't be.

Surely, someone would have given her warning. Mamoru. Usagi. Hell, even, Pluto.

Because they knew she knew. She remembered. Even he would have had the decency to send her some kind of sign, simply because it would be cruel not to.

So, when she saw whitened hair swishing through the fog, she forgot to breath.

It couldn't be.

The hair swung to the side, a curtain to reveal his silhouette as he looked down one street questioningly.

Was he actually lost? Minako wanted to laugh; it was a much better alternative to crying.

Hanging hard onto the small feeling of amusement amid the tumble of everything else whirling inside her, trying to break the surface of the one thing that kept her from screaming, she ran towards him.

Weaving through the people, she reached out and grabbed his arm, stilling him in his walk.

He paused, looking confusedly at the slim fingers hanging onto his arm and then over his shoulder at the blonde panting and smiling and … was she crying?

"Yes?" he said cautiously.

Minako was finding it hard to breathe. It wasn't the run; it was him. "You're here," she choked out, priding herself on the fact that she sounded out of breath and not like she was about to lose it.

"Yeeees?" He was clearly waiting for more.

Minako's euphoria waned. She released him, stepping back.

"Are you okay?" he asked, with the concern that strangers showed, in the few times they showed it.

Strangers.

It was him. But he was younger and smoother. Innocent. 'More innocent than me,' Minako realized. 'And lost.'

Kunzite would never have gotten lost – he had had an innate sense of direction. Leaders always did.

His green eyes looked unsure. Not only was he lost, he had a strange girl hanging onto him.

There was no smooth recovery, no witty comment about her staring, no questioning, penetrating gaze to unravel what had happened.

There was nothing.

He was here…

Minako smiled and shook her head apologetically.

… but he wasn't him.

For some reason, it was easier not to cry now.

He stared at her questioningly, not willing to push things, but not wanting to let her go upset.

He would never have let go her upset; that's why he would've pushed the issue.

He wasn't completely lost to her.

He began shuffling his feet in the opposite direction, glancing at her now and again.

She'd only lost the important part.

* * *

Kiyoshi took one last glance at the blonde. The fog and the crowd blurred her into a blonde haze until he couldn't really distinguish her any more.

He returned to his map, later forgetting the beautiful girl completely, letting her slip away into a crowd of faces. She faded into the fog of his memory like last night's dream that glimmered away in the sun's first rays. Something so pristine and important, interrupted with a meaningless reality.

He was so intent on finding his way, he had gotten lost all over again.

* * *

end

x-posted to "Twisted"


	11. Survivor

**_Winner of Best General_**

( "Perhaps it was Fate's way of laughing at her" )

* * *

Title: **Survivor**  
Theme 1: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 31, Coronation, sm_monthly, January 2009  
Theme 2: Silver (#27) – taken from 101_kisses  
Genre: Drama  
Rating: PG13

* * *

The reign of Crystal Tokyo was about to begin.

Debris littered the outside of the palace. Marble and stone lay in large pieces, crumbling from impact. Among the puddles of water, scorch marks blackened all that had been white and pure.

Five figures stood amid the war scene.

Helios, in his white garb grayed by the tragedy, stood shackled in chains before Kunzite.

Kunzite knelt on one knee, head bowed. The blood on his pants was hardly noticeable; the white uniform it had splattered on, however, stood in stark contrast to everything surrounding them.

Zoisite sat to the side, injured in this second betrayal, nursing his wounds quietly.

Nephrite, whose thick, long hair had finally been forgone in the reality of battle, fingered it absentmindedly, thinking all things must come to an end.

Mars was the last.

Nephrite had been intent on killing her by hand, sitting astride her and wrapping long fingers that Jupiter had so loved around Mars' neck, squeezing until her flailing had dwindled to twitching.

Kunzite had saved her, pulling Nephrite off and saying something about needing a fourth.

She needed to take Jadeite's place. Venus – who had accepted the shitennou before the rest of them – had been the one to kill him. And the shitennou could not exist with only three.

So, she lived.

She had been spared. She did not know if it was because she was the only one to survive or because Jadeite had been her … whatever he was supposed to be to her. Perhaps it was Fate's way of laughing at her, because she had been the one to say they didn't deserve a second chance.

* * *

"Rei, you loved him once. You could love him again," Usagi urged.

Playfully, and understanding Rei's reluctance, Minako had tried to lighten the mood: "Besides, you'll be all alone while we're being swept off our feet."

* * *

Ah, the irony. Mars wished Venus was around so she could explain it.

Helios finished murmuring his words, finally settling a crown on Kunzite's head.

Mars thought it strange that it was not Endymion's crown. Perhaps Kunzite still had some loyalty to him, or some guilt lingered on edges of his frame.

But when he looked at Mars, she knew: He was not longer Endymion's; he was his own. He didn't want anything else to do with Endymion. Maybe he had never been Endymion's; maybe he had always belonged to Earth.

She shifted her eyes wearily away from his, sad and disheartened for her dead friend.

* * *

"How, Minako? How do you know?"

"His eyes, Rei. Look at his eyes."

* * *

They were silver.

* * *

end

x-posted to "Twisted"


	12. Musically Momentary

His singing made her imagine, just for a moment

**

* * *

Title: Musically Momentary  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 2, Winter Sports, **sm_monthly** , January 2009  
Also prompted by Adins' scribbling at the Shitennou forums  
Genre: Romance-ish  
Rating: PG13

* * *

Makoto entered the lodge, stamping her feet hard like swarm around her. Propping her snowboard up in a stand, she brushed a hand down the length, sweeping the snow away to land in little white heaps at her booted feet.

Moving in the crowd towards the bar, she stripped off her heavy gloves and whipped them against her thigh to dislodge any stubborn snow. Sticking them into her pocket, she unzipped her jacket, ordered a beer, and squeezed into a recently emptied stool. She took a drink and sighed.

That last run had been murder in the most awesome of ways. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

Flexing her arms to give them a bit of a stretch, Makoto glanced around when she heard somebody pluck away some notes.

In front of the fireplace, elevated slightly, a brunette stood tuning his guitar. Long brown hair fell across his shoulders. Simple in his white button-down and jeans, Makoto suddenly felt self-conscious in her hoodie and puffy snowboarding pants. Vaguely, she touched her hair; it was still in a high ponytail, but strands were escaping all over the place and the static made her feel rough and uncouth.

Shrugging, she gave an inward self-deprecating laugh. It was a snow lodge. People looked no better and no worse than she did.

A girl walked by, pulling off her beanie, and Makoto stifled a laugh. The girl's short hair looked slicked back like a helmet, laying flat to the contours of her head.

Makoto shook her ponytail a bit, feeling it wobble side to side. Apparently she was better off than some.

"Hi," interrupted her train of thoughts.

Whooping and cheering ensued.

Grinning easily, the guitar player said, "I'm going to start things off easy-"

A short-haired blonde sitting in the front booed good-humoredly.

"-just to warm up. Then," he winked, "we'll see where we end up."

The blonde who had booed tossed something at the guitarist, who ignored it easily enough, not even bothering to dodge whatever it was.

The people directly in front of the guitarist quieted, but the rest of the lodge was still bustling with people trying to get in to be done with the day or out for one last run. Makoto strained to hear the beginning notes, and when she didn't, she stood to weave closer.

* * *

_The strands in your eyes  
That color them wonderful  
Stop me and steal my breath  
_

* * *

Makoto paused mid-stride, letting the voice wash over her. He wasn't amazing, but he had a soothing quality that went perfectly with the song. She wondered how he could do anything more upbeat; it didn't seem to fit with his soft voice.

* * *

_You're my love survival_  
_You're my living proof_  
_My love is alive_  
_Not dead_

* * *

She wondered whom he was singing to. Who was keeping his love alive?

She imagined it was one of the girls who had gathered around him, looking at him adoringly.

Ah, the life of a musician. Makoto could only imagine it.

* * *

_I've been dropped out_  
_Burned up_  
_Fought my way back from the dead_

* * *

Tilting her glass back to finish her beer, Makoto lowered it and saw him looking intently at her.

Looking down, she shuffled her feet, placing her glass on a nearby table and fiddling with the zipper on her jacket before looking back up.

He had kicked up a booted foot to rest on the stool. But he was still watching her, as if he had a message for her.

_

* * *

Tell me  
That we belong together  
Dress it up  
With the trappings of love_

* * *

Makoto smiled and leaned her head back against the pillar she had managed to find an empty spot on.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

_I'll be captivated  
I'll hang from your lips_

* * *

She didn't know if she actually did, but she wanted to feel his gaze on her. She wanted him to look at her. But knowing that might not actually be the case, she lost herself in the music, allowing herself to be, just for a moment, one of those girls.

* * *

_I'll be your crying shoulder  
I'll be love's suicid_e

* * *

One of those girls who pretended to believe the song, to get the musician.

* * *

_I'll be beter when I'm older  
_

* * *

Makoto was many things, feminine and masculine, homely and sporty, gentle and tough, but she was not – usually – one of those girls.

It was too much pretending, for her and for him, for something so transparent that would only last so long.

* * *

_Tuned in  
Turned on_

* * *

So, she was usually ardently very much so not one of those girls. But in that moment, as the last notes faded away into applause, she thought for a moment that she might be.

* * *

_Emeralds from mountains  
Thrust toward the sky  
Never revealing their depth_

* * *

Makoto opened her eyes and walked away, without bothering to notice where his gaze was now.

He had a nice voice, and she supposed he played well. She didn't really know – she just knew it didn't sound bad.

But she knew that what made him good was that he had made her something she was not, however momentarily. Makoto could not deny him that.

The song, sung by him, played over and over in her head. Despite the revelry and the chaotic mood that surrounded her as the lodge emptied of the families and filled with the mingling of the sexes, mingled mostly by alcohol, the song persisted.

She was drumming her fingers on the bar to the tune, waiting for a round of beers, when a slightly familiar voice sounded.

Just as it had a couple hours earlier.

"Hi."

* * *

_I'll be better when I'm older  
_

* * *

There was no support this time. No cheering. No hollering. No guitar.

Just him. And her.

Makoto swallowed, neither allowing nor disallowing her heart to beat faster. She simply felt it working furiously of its own accord, as it was wont to do in these situations.

Smiling at the bartender who had suddenly appeared with her order and her total, she paid quickly, gathering up the drinks and turning to the tall brunette.

His lips were spread in that easy grin, his stance friendly, and his head tilted to the side as he waited.

* * *

_I'll be the greatest fan of your life  
_

* * *

"Hi."

* * *

end

Offset italics are lyrics from Edwin McCain's "I'll Be"


	13. Disenchanted?

( This was not how it was supposed to go )

* * *

**Title: Disenchanted?**  
Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 17, Striptease, sm_monthly, January 2009  
Genre: Sexy scene?  
Rating: R

* * *

This was not how it was supposed to go.

After finding an outfit that balanced on sexy and alluring, instead of slutty and revealing; after dancing random steps to different songs for an hour and spending another hour arranging them to flow appropriately; after showering and shaving and lotion-ing and make-up-ing; after brushing and curling and blow-drying and painting; after all that, she deserved more than this.

But as the soft silk of one thigh high slipped down to her knee; as her hands grasped at Jiro through his shirt, searching over and underneath; as the cold metal of hit belt buckle brushed the thin material between her naked thighs; as the contact became noticeably rough and naked; as Rei shuddered hard in strong arms with satisfaction and wanting, she found she could care less about how it was supposed to be.

Because it was too damn good to be otherwise.

* * *

end 


	14. Unwanted Expectation

( …it wouldn't surprise her at all.. )

* * *

**Title: Unwanted Expectation**  
Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 25, Sacrifice, sm_monthly, January 2009  
Genre: Angst  
Rating: PG13

* * *

Of course he woke up first. When she found out, it wouldn't surprise her at all. She would smile sleepily and murmur something in the pillow about being too satisfied to wake up and how she would wake up first next time.

Kiyoshi quietly slipped into his jeans and pulled his button down over his shoulders. Running a hand through his tangled hair, he looked around for his socks.

He put them on while standing. Sitting would give him an excuse to linger and take his time, to wait for her to wake up. Sitting would hurt more.

Finally, he stepped quietly into his shoes and patted his pockets to make sure he his wallet, his phone, and his keys.

All of this had taken five minutes.

He didn't even glance over his shoulder and his slowly unlocked the door. He eased the door open, seeing her in his mind's eye: naked and laughing, moaning and panting, staring dreamily through half-open eyes, sleeping peacefully sated with closed ones.

Lying diagonally, she took up the entire bed: her limbs spread in angles and her head spilled molten gold rivers onto the sheets, that poured over her in their own ripples and waves, covering some parts and revealing others.

That last image of Minako propelled him through the door.

When she found out, it wouldn't surprise her at all. She might cry; she might even understand.

This life wasn't about his second chance.

It was about hers.

* * *

end


	15. Failing Saving

She had to try

* * *

******Title: Failing Saving  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 22, Forget-me-not, sm_monthly, January 2009  
Genre: Drama/Angst  
Rating: PG

**

* * *

**

"Please!" a voice cried through the door. "PLEASE!"

Nixie hesitated, her hand already resting on the door.

It was too dangerous. A woman, - a girl really – all by herself in these dreadful times. Death knocking on all doors. She could not chance it.

The frantic pounding had dimmed to hopeless slaps.

Faintly, she heard, "Please…"

Flinging the door open unbalanced the person who had been leaning on it. Somebody stumbled into Nixie, and she did not catch him so much as land on the floor cradling him.

Delirious, he looked into her eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, green eyes closing soon afterward.

* * *

He moaned as she pressed at his neck, encountering the swollen glands.

"Your name," she said softly, as her hands traveled his hair line, lifting his head up and cushioning it more comfortably.

"Alistair," he panted, looking her in the eyes, as if he wanted her to remember him, as if he wanted to matter.

"Nixie," she whispered back. Though he had not asked, she knew it mattered.

* * *

He thrashed on her small cot of a bed in the bare single room. Throwing the blankets to the floor, his moans joined the others coming through the walls.

Quickly, she wrung out the rags in her hands and ran to him, her simple dress swishing around her ankles, too slowly for her movements.

She tried placing them on his head, on his body to cool him, to ease his fever and his headache, but he only mumbled to himself: "I can't… it's too much… it hurts…"

"I know," she soothed brushing down his naked chest with the cloth.

It was then that she saw the first spot of red.

* * *

The next day, the spot of red had turned black. She held back his long curly hair from his face as he threw up into a bucket.

"I'm dying." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He fell back onto the cot; she let go of his hair and kneeled in front of him.

Weakly, he smiled. He fingered her blue hair gingerly, afraid of touching her too much. "I wish I had known you before I was dying."

* * *

Alistair screamed once more, and all Nixie could do was cry for him. Every time he squeezed her hand, she gripped his just as tightly.

In a moment of delirium, he said to her, "You tried to save me."

A smile wobbled through the tears.

"But who will try to save you?"

* * *

At first, Nixie had tried to hold him down through the convulsions, but he was too strong and too big, weak and sick as was. Instead, she held a hand as tightly as she could with both of hers, willing him to die, willing him to let go, willing him peace.

She cried the entire time.

When the spasms finally stopped, the tears did not.

* * *

As the sun rose the next day, she dragged his body out and down the street. Pick-up would take care of it.

Entering her room once more, Nixie slumped against the door, hugging herself. It was then that she felt the first bump under her arm.

* * *

Feeling her spasms strengthen, Nixie thought of Alistair. She always did at the end.

"How many more times will I try to save you? How many more times will you not save me?"

* * *

end

Nixie means "water sprite"; Alistair means "man's defender."

According to wikipedia, a myth behind the naming of the flower forget-me-not is that a medieval knight & his lady were walking by a river. He tried to pick the flower that she admired but fell into the river due to the weight of his armor. Throwing the flower to his love, he shouted, "Forget me not!" The flower supposedly used to represent tragic romance. Now, it typically represents true love and memories.


	16. Of Maids & Moisture & Leaks

"I would even say that I have a deep interest in … popcorn."

* * *

**Title: Of Maids & Moisture & Leaks  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 8, Popcorn, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: Humor  
Rating: PG13

* * *

Kiyoshi held the empty bowl, running his fingers through the remaining kernels. He grimaced distastefully at the oil coating his fingers but did not stop.

Ami watched as Kiyoshi smirked slightly in success, popping a partially popped popcorn kernel into his mouth.

At Ami's questioning look, Kiyoshi shrugged, slightly shy about his idiosyncrasy. "They're crunchy. I like them."

Ami turned towards him, tilting her head playfully. "You like the old maids?"

Still looking for more kernels, Kiyoshi paused only momentarily in his search. "What?"

"The old maids. You like them. The partially popped kernels."

Kiyoshi guffawed. "That's what they call them?"

"Yes."

Shaking his head, he said, "Well, then, yes, I like the old maids."

As the words came out of his mouth, he kept an eye on Ami to see what she would say next.

Ami nodded. "There's usually not enough moisture in the old maids. Ergo, no steam to make the popcorn pop."

Amused, Kiyoshi said, "I should think that there's enough moisture."

"Well, then, there's a leaky hull. The steam escapes instead of popping the kernel."

Dryly, he said, "I assure you, there is no leak. The steam stays contained until the popcorn's been popped."

Ami nodded sagely once more.

Kiyoshi looked at Ami with interest, if not suspicion. "I didn't know you had such an interest in … popcorn."

Flippantly, she replied, "Oh my interests extend further than books and education, Kiyoshi." Blushing, but determined not to let him have the last word, she said, "I would even say that I have a deep interest in … popcorn."

"Knowing Zoisite, that doesn't surprise me. What surprises me is the interest in _my_ popcorn."

With a devilish look, Ami said, "Well, to be honest, other people's interest me-"

"_What_ are you two talking about?" Makoto interrupted.

"Old maids."

"Popcorn."

The concurrent answers perplexed Makoto only momentarily. She shook her head. "Well, do you want more popcorn?" she asked, peering into the bowl. "I think Jiro's still got some."

"Knowing Rei, he probably does," Kiyoshi murmured.

Ami choked on one of the kernels she had been crunching. As Makoto thumped her back, Kiyoshi walked away.

He figured that counted as the last word.

* * *

end


	17. Unforgotten Debts

pledge: assurance of support or goodwill conveyed by drinking a person's health; a toast

* * *

**Title: Unforgotten Debts  
**Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 21, Pledge, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: Humor  
Rating: PG13

* * *

"Please! I already sort of told them I'd ask!"

"You did. The answer is no."

"Well, I more kind of let on that you'd probably do it."

"Tell them you were mistaken."

"See, it's really I sort-of-kind-of-guaranteed-and-promised that you'd do it, waaaay before I even asked." Minako paused. "Which is now." She stopped again. "So you have to."

"I'm not Irish."

"We're in Japan."

"I don't do dress-up."

"This prompt is supposed to be for January!"

Minako paused, caught slightly off guard. Opting to ignore all the statements, she simply rolled her eyes. "Oh stop. It's for charity. We all know that you're going to do it anyway, no matter how many times you say you won't. If I don't guilt you into doing it with the whole 'you killed us and betrayed us bit,' the other girls will just use the sex card, which always works, so shut up, dress up," she grinned widely, "and be Irish!"

"Minako!"

"You're lucky people even remember that you're not just emo, angsty, and stabby."

"MINAKO!"

"And there's Guinness at the end!"

"Guinness isn't even Irish!" Noboru yelled back, but after Minako's closing argument, what could they do but change?

* * *

Noboru tipped his chair back at an angle dangerously bordering falling over. He rested his green leprechaun hat upon his face, covering it completely.

"What happened to 'Guinness isn't even Irish?'" Jiro mocked, finally pulling away the annoyingly, bright yellow bowtie that had untied and dangled from his neck all night.

"Never said I wouldn't drink it," came the muffled reply. Noboru continued his can't-end-well balance, purposely teetering back and forth.

Zared pulled his white socks up to his knees where they met with his dark green shorts. Sitting up, he swung his hat around until he felt the buckle facing forward.

"You know you can just take the socks off," Jiro suggested.

"Who walks around with buckle shoes and no socks?"

"You're dressed as a leprechaun and you're worried about the fashion faux pas of no socks and shoes?"

"It's St. Patrick's Day," Zared reminded him. "If I'm going to be a leprechaun, I'm going to be a damn good one."

Noboru let his chair thump back to the ground. Grabbing Jiro's hat and shoving it onto the blonde's curls with both hands, Noboru held up his half-filled pint. "Is it mean to toast to someone's death?"

"When you've already killed them, yes," Jiro said drily.

"Oh." Noboru lowered his glass to the table, disheartened. He set it down unevenly, almost tipping it over.

Kiyoshi made a mental note to let that be Noboru's last before cryptically – typically – saying, "Don't worry. She'll get hers."

The other three men lifted their glasses and clinked, not really caring at all anymore.

Kiyoshi finished his beer, figuring they didn't need to know how much she'd enjoy getting hers.

* * *

end


	18. Real

Do you see what I see?

* * *

Title: **Real**  
Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Day 30, Bubble Gum, **sm_monthly**, January 2009  
Genre: AR  
Rating: PG  
Note: Same verse as Musically Momentary (Ch. 12)

* * *

Rei leaned forward, her hands on the stool between her legs, swinging her sneakered feet like a child. She chewed her gum, blowing little bubbles and inhaling them back into her mouth to pop them.

She glanced one more time at the bar. Makoto was still talking to the musician.

'Great.'

She blew her bangs out of her eyes, mentally noting that she could probably use a trim, and scanned the room once more.

Her gaze settled on the group of four, next to the stage. They were varied, good-looking, and more obviously, glancing at her periodically.

Rei watched them, unperturbed, smiling a bit in amusement.

The blonde – the curly, short-haired one, she amended – was blatantly looking now. Almost as if he was considering talking to her. Almost as if the others were daring him to… or convincing him not to.

Rei glimpsed herself in the mirror of the bar when she looked to check on Makoto again. Her long hair covered her torso, hanging down over either shoulder, red dye streaking down the strands. 'Maybe it's the lip ring,' she thought, tonguing it gently when it glinted back at her.

Taking one last look at Makoto and giving her – and the beers – up as a lost cause, she decided she felt a little reckless and playful and wandered over to the group with whom she had been exchanging looks with for the past few minutes.

Upon arrival, she took a pen from a recently abandoned neighboring table and scribbled on a napkin. She slid it across the table to the blue-eyed blonde, her fingernails catching the light, coated in clear paint and purple glitter.

She contemplated saying something, something normal, like, "Call me," but she figured it wasn't really her style. So, she popped her gum once more and smiled. Stuffing her hands into her cropped hoodie, she walked away.

The others were still staring, a little dumbfounded, when the musician arrived with Makoto in tow. He set down a round for his friends and turned to Makoto questioningly.

"Where'd she go?" Makoto asked rhetorically. She peered at the napkin, squinting a bit in disbelief and surprise.

"I think that's her real number!"

* * *

end


	19. A New Beginning

two pairs of the exact same eyes

* * *

Title: A New Beginning  
Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Caress, Day 23, sm_monthly, January 2009  
Genre: Angsty fluff  
Rating: G  
AN: Assisted by the gorgeous newborn photographs of Jen Mahoney. This is a ficathon throwaway fic. Song relation is With Arms Wide Open by Creed

* * *

Kunzite powdered her small bottom and then lifted his newborn daughter out of the changing table. He cuddled her to his chest, feeling the softness of her head against the hardness of his body. He molded her to him, curving her small pliable body around his broad chest.

She curled into him, hunching her round shoulders towards him, lifting up chubby knees toward her chin. She balled up her tiny fingers into little fists and rested them against him.

She was nothing more than folds of skin upon folds of skin, but Kunzite could not ever recall loving anything so much.

She was a new beginning in so many ways. She was his to protect and to love. He would never let any harm come to her, never let anything bad happen. He would love her so much she would never know to accept anything else.

Kunzite shifted slightly, letting her rest upon his forearm and cupping her bald head in one hand. Her feet tucked into his elbow and her arms looked for purchase.

She opened her eyes, big and blue and wide in her little face.

Innocent and trusting and unknowing of what he could be.

Kunzite decided he would do everything possible to ensure she would look at him that way for the rest of her life.

He would never be anything else with her, but good and loving and worthy.

She would be his new beginning, because he could not stand to have two pairs of the exact same eyes, secretly eyeing him with paranoia and fear.

That, he would not survive.

* * *

end


	20. Homemade

"Where is he going to put his baby Sasquatch feet?"

* * *

Title: Homemade  
Theme: Senshi/Shitennou: Father Figure, Day 26, sm_monthly, January 2009  
Genre: Humor  
Rating: PG

* * *

"Why would you let me do this?" Nolan exploded at Lita.

"I'm… sorry?" she replied, momentarily pausing in her conversation with Serena.

"This is ridiculous! And you!" he pointed at Serena. "You convinced me to do it! You let me!" he turned to Lita, "And you convinced me!" he turned back to Serena. "What is wrong with you? And what is wrong with me that I let you convince me to do it?" Frustrated, he threw his hands up in the air and stormed back into the extra bedroom.

Lita tried to say something, but Serena had already stood up. "Let me try," she suggested, following Nolan.

"Nolan," Serena said patiently. "What's wrong?"

"Why, why, why did I think I could build a crib? For a baby? My baby? A living, breathing baby! I mean, I could probably build a crib for a cat – they always land on their feet. But a baby?" Nolan shook his head in disbelief.

"Nolan, it was a sweet idea. We all thought so-"

"Well, then all of you are idiots!" Nolan snapped. "Look at this! LOOK at this!" He shook some magazines in Serena's face, who backed away to avoid being flapped at.

"This one has mesh instead of bars! Mesh! Mesh won't kill my baby, but my bars might. And this one – this one has carvings. Mine has some dried glue on it somewhere, and I swear Zane used a piece of gum to stick something together. This one is like a four-poster crib! I didn't know you could have a four-poster crib. With stars on top! And there are ruffles all over the place. Can you put ruffles on my crib? I don't know. I don't know what ruffles do, but I do know that I did not think of ruffles when I was making the crib and therefore, do not know if ruffles can be included."

Serena laughed. "Nolan-"

"And walls! Why didn't I make a crib with six walls? What if this kid is huge like me and has Sasquatch feet? Where is he going to put his baby Sasquatch feet when I only gave him four walls? He needs his room Serena!"

Serena backed away. "Ooo-kay. Let's take a deep breath."

"And if he's big, what if he falls right through the crib? What if it's not sturdy enough? And those thingys!"

"Thingys?" Serena questioned, deciding to let him rant to his heart's content.

Nolan swirled a finger in the air as he paced. "Those things that play music and hang over a kid's head." He stopped and looked at her, pointing at her emphatically. "Those things make kids smart. I'm going to make my kid stupid because I don't know if I can hang one of those things on my crib. I built a stupid-crib."

Nolan sat down dejectedly, next to the half-finished crib, ignoring the tools and dust as he did so.

He put his hands over his face, but Serena could still hear him continue. "And the standards! These things hold babies – of course there are standards. Safety standards! How am I ever going to get this thing up to code?"

Serena waited a moment. "All done?"

"Yes," came the muffled reply.

"Okay." Serena stood up and pulled him to his feet. Looking into his hanging face, she spoke with determination. "You _will_ finish that crib. It _will_ be up to code. It _will_ have a spin-y music thing. It will _not_ be a stupid-crib. It will be big enough, because although you do have freakishly large feet, anything Lita can carry in her stomach, can fit into that. Zane did not use any gum, and in case he did, he is officially in charge of making sure your crib is up to code. It does not need stars, or posts, or ruffles. It does not need carvings. It needs to be finished and it will house your child. Do you understand me?"

Nolan mumbled. "Yes."

Serena inclined her head expectantly. "What?"

"Yes!" Nolan snapped, exasperated.

"Good." Serena walked out, barely catching the "thanks" that followed.

* * *

After they took their baby home, Lita awoke in the middle of the first night to find herself still alone in bed. Turning, she first saw the beautifully simple cradle that Nolan had built by hand. Then, she saw the chair he was slumped in directly beside the crib. His hand dangled over the edge, hovering over the baby, who happened to be awake and who happened to be more entranced with the large overhanging fingers than the mobile of colorful animals. The baby seemed to almost reach for Nolan's fingers.

Lita smiled, knowing that Nolan would sleep like that for at least two weeks.

* * *

end


End file.
